The Wished Away
by ASolidSecond
Summary: Sarah faces her biggest battle to date when forces in the Underground no longer wait for children to be wished away. She must rely on old friends and new allies to protect the most vulnerable people in her life and learn once and for all that not everyone is what they seem in the Underground.
1. Prologue

"I hate birds," she said, picking up a palm-sized rock from the side of the gravel driveway. She tested its weight in her hands while the muscle memory of spring softball sessions woke up. She brushed a strand of long dark hair from her clear green eyes. "I especially hate pompous, creepy, narcissistic, cheating gits who should have the common sense to know that owls are supposed to be nocturnal you glittery son of a -" and she let the stone fly from her hand.

Her aim was off, but the stone hit the tree with a satisfying thunk and a shower of leaves and she stood grinning in triumph until she felt a tug at her sleeve. She turned around to see a gaggle of campers looking at her with a mixture of confusion and awe.

"Okay," she said clapping her hands together, "You guys forget you saw that and I'll give you an extra fifteen minutes before lights out tonight."

The girls looked around at each other, unsure of what to make of this offer. Some of the newer girls were ready to accept this strange peace treaty, but she could a few of the old girls shaking their heads as they waited for what they wanted.

"I'll even let you play your choice of music before lights out."

Smiles erupted with a chorus of "yeahs" as the girls turned away from the scene of the crime, heads together trying to figure out how best to spend their fifteen-minute reward for a temporary bout of amnesia as they continue on their walk to the next activity.

Looking back to the tree she could see that the damned bird was still there. A stark white blotch in the foliage. She knew it would be there because it never left her alone when she asked nor when she yelled nor when she relived her days as a pitcher for the Regional Championship winning Softball team. Turning her back to the girls she raised both hands in front of her and stuck out her middle fingers and glared.

And the owl glared back.

She spun back to her group, color rising in her face as she muttered words campers weren't allowed to say let alone hear from the director of the camp despite how much she truly hated birds and Sarah Williams really, really hated birds, especially that one.

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**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Come On Feet

Chapter 2

Sarah stood out on the back deck of cabin four, allowing herself a few minutes of peace and quiet. It was the dry early evening of a hot, cloudless day, the kind of day that made you tired just to be awake. Something in the stillness of the air always brought her mind back to the day of her first battle. She rubbed at her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose knowing that it was just a memory and nothing around her in the crunchy, late summer grass whispered or glittered.

As the director of the camp, she usually didn't play camp counselor much anymore, but Sarah had reassured Kelcy that she could cover for a few days when the girl had gotten the call about her grandma. It was good to get out of the office and connect with the girls; too much bureaucracy and paperwork made her forget why she took the job in the first place.

The cabin behind her was blasting something with a lot of "Uh-uh's" and "Oooh yeah's". She glanced in one of the windows to see her girls living it up, jumping on the cots and showing off to each other. It was pretty rare to see them all so relaxed and happy. That was what she was here for, that was why she came back summer after summer. These kids deserved some happiness, they deserved to feel loved and wanted and for many of them, that was in short supply in their real lives.

Ever since she had returned from her own adventures as a teenager Sarah had known what she was meant to do in the world. She had grown up quickly in those thirteen hours in the Underground, and she had returned feeling brave and valiant and ready to take on the world. She had saved Toby so maybe she could save more, so when she saw the flyer that spring looking for teenage counselors in training at a summer camp for kids in at-risk situations she knew what she wanted to do for the summer and by the end of the summer she knew what she wanted to do with her life.

Of course, Sarah had quickly learned that real life isn't as pretty as she still might want to think. She had been working with at-risk kids now for almost ten years and there were success stories, there were kids who were able to use the training she gave and the honest connection she tried to forge and ran with it. She still looked forward to those emails and running into those kids in town. But then there were just as many that she couldn't help. Kids too hurt, too scared, too messed up by what they had seen and lived. She was a sophomore in college, still riding a naive streak of a savior complex when her boss from the previous summer called her up to let her know that one of the campers from her cabin was dead. Suicide, violence, drugs, and abuse would take more kids from her after that and it always had a way of putting it all in perspective.

Every time that she got one of those phone calls, after having a good cry and making phone calls and donating money to memorials or funeral fundraisers she'd always find herself in front of a mirror.

"It's not fair," she'd cry out to her own reflection and then something inside her would straighten her backbone and the tears would stop and she'd reply to herself, "That's right, it's not fair."

She knew the girls in the cabin behind her were no different; in that room were girls who would make it and some who wouldn't. There would be success stories and halting, heart-wrenching phone calls and none of it was fair. She knew that despite her own experiences with absentee parents, divorce, heartache and being a lost, lonely little girl there were stories in that room that she could not imagine, could not understand and could never fix. She had gone into that first summer years ago thinking she, the defeater of kings and goblins, the vanquisher of bogs and oubliettes, was a match for anything in the world, but the real world was far worse.

Sarah knew that all too well by now, so these were the moments she lived for; doing what she could when she could, soaking in the squeals and giggles and the moments when you could see that the present pushed the past far behind them. These were the moments she would hang on to on those days when she was hiding behind a closed door trying to compose herself after another day's fight against the real world. She knew all too well that this was nothing like outwitting a king and saving a baby brother, but she knew that just like that day standing on a dusty hill that no matter the odds she'd always try. She'd play these memories through her mind while reaching for the door handle of whatever room she had found herself in; she'd whisper her own private battle cry before stepping out in life again.

Come on feet, let's go.

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**4/8/20 - Edited and expanded slightly.**

**Thank you for reading! The story starts out a bit serious and then gets a bit creepy and then it gets a bit fun and fluffy and full of adventure (kind of like the movie ;) )**

**Reviews are always appreciated!**


	3. Mornings

**There will be mild language in this and continuing on in the story. **

Chapter 3

It felt like the alarm went off only seconds after she had closed her eyes. Her eyes stung and her mouth felt dry and Sarah felt more tired than when she had laid down her head after doing the late-night rounds. It didn't help that she had ended that shift angry after spotting that damnable owl during her shift. She never saw it flying, rather she'd turn around the corner of a building and there it would be. Sitting in a tree sitting preternaturally still and, if it was possible for an owl to do so, looking annoyed as if it had somewhere else it wanted to be. It was nights like this that she wished they allowed bb guns as an activity.

She should be used to it by now because it was always like this whenever she spotted him; that white owl out in the distance. Sometimes he left her alone for months at a time, in fact, there had been ten blissful months between the end of high school and the beginning of college when she hadn't seen that pompous white bird at all. There had been no weird, half-remembered dreams. No strange things spotting the corner of her eye causing her breath to catch in the back of her throat. No feelings like she wasn't quite alone in an empty room, or worse that she was apart from everyone else in a crowd, just a little out of sync and out of step with reality.

The most irritating part was that that was all it ever was; she had never actually laid eyes on the Underground's petulant monarch since that last battle of wills over ten years ago and mow, sometimes, she wished she had. She would imagine all the right words she would choose if she could face him now. No stumbling over half-remembered lines this time; now she would be clear and strong in telling him in no uncertain terms to fuck off.

But no, after months of quiet, restful sleep she had caught a glimpse of him in that tree yesterday and knew that that night's rest would be anything but peaceful. She couldn't even remember her dreams from that night, which was okay - when you had an otherworldly stalker with a penchant for dreamstalking she'd happily take not remembering, but it felt like she had been dancing or scaling mountains all night. Running her fingers through her hair, trying to detangle the knots, she let out an annoyed sigh because knowing him it was probably a combination of the two.

Sarah stumbled her way into the bathroom and appraised herself in the mirror, glad that her position as a director allowed her a private cabin and bathroom. Her long brown hair had come out of its messy bun as she tossed and turned that night and now it hung halfway down to her left shoulder while the right side frizzed with static. Her green eyes were puffy and ringed with dark circles. She'd have to pull out the heavy-duty concealer today; appearing to be anything but in control would mean giving an inch to a bunch of moody teenage girls who would happily take the mile.

"Damn pest could at least be enough of a gentleman to drop off a coffee when he does his creepy bird thing," she said to herself in the mirror and sighed. The cheap bulk coffee the camp provided would have to do. She wondered if the girls would notice if she filled her water bottle with it.

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"Well if it isn't my favorite Director! Morning General!" The voice that filled her ears was deep, strong and way too damn chipper for this time in the morning. "Wow, you look like crap this morning."

"Hector, I don't care how good you are with these kids, I will personally kill you if you don't let me finish this cup of coffee in silence," Sarah said without opening her eyes.

She heard the screech of an old metal school chair being dragged across the linoleum next to her and felt the breeze the man-made as he sat down just a little too close to her. She could see him in her mind's eye perfectly, facing her with his coffee cup held up to his face, just staring at her with the biggest grin on his face. It was Tuesday, so it'd be the pink cup with the kittens on it.

Hector was her favorite staff member, though she wouldn't admit it to him. He showed up to interview a few summers ago and she knew he was just what the camp needed. He was one of those guys with bright eyes and a spry smile who could look like both the dashing hero and the kindly uncle, always ready with a quip or a story, usually about his Puerto Rican Grandmother who was a bit of a camp legend by now. They had gotten to know each other pretty well over the last five years, but Sarah knew there were stories he didn't tell; sometimes in this line of work, the stories you didn't tell spoke more than the ones you did.

It worked to his advantage in this situation, he reminded everyone of someone they used to know - a much-beloved Tio, their kind neighbor, the white knight of their playground days. It helped make a lot of the girls feel a little easier at camp and more than once he was her knight in shining armor - defusing a rivalry, breaking through a barrier or just keeping these kids going through homesickness or whatever coping cycle they might be stuck in, but right now he was being a pest and he knew it.

"You're going to sit there and stare at me until I'm done aren't you?" Sarah asked, still not opening her eyes.

"Just like I do every morning chief."

"God, I really hate you before seven a.m."

Hector let out a deep laugh, "You've been saying that for five years Sarah, and it ain't more true now than when you first threatened my life for being a morning person."

She took one more long swallow of her coffee and opened her eyes, "Okay, there I can deal with you now, so what are we going to do today?"

"The same thing we do every damn day, save the world."

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**Updated 4/8/20 - minor updates and edits. **


	4. No Good, Very Bad Day

Chapter 4

When she looked back on this day Sarah should have known everything was about to go terribly wrong.

The day didn't start too different from any other. There were kids to shuffle out of bed and into the cafeteria. There were small squabbles to break up and bandaids to apply not too long after the first groups broke off for morning activities. There was a stack of paperwork on her desk and phone calls to make and emails to answer. Well, not the emails, the dialup hadn't been connecting right out all morning making that nearly impossible. Sarah was about to call it a complete loss and venture out to help corral the kids in for lunch when a knock sounded at her door and before she could answer in walked Hector with a petulant teenage girl dragging her feet behind him. The girl, Yvonne, was not a stranger to her office. She'd been coming to the camp for years; in fact, this was her last year before she aged out of the program.

"What now, Mr. H?"

"Caught her at the phone again," he said bluntly. Behind him Yvonne, arms crossed defensively in front of her chest, was staring intently at her shoes.

"Come on in Vee, have a seat," Sarah said motioning to the chair opposite her desk. Hector nudged it in front of her, but the girl didn't move, "Okay, you can stand if you want."

Sarah moved in front of her desk and leaned back on her heels. "Trying to call your dad again?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly, "Maybe."

"Vee, girl, we've talked about this. It's a no-contact order and it has to go both ways. It's for your safe-"

"No! No, it's not! He wants to talk to me!"

"Yvonne, I know that might be what it seems like, but please -"

"It's not fair!" The girl screamed, kicking her leg out, sending the desk chair crashing into Sarah's shin. Sarah sucked in a deep breath, she'd let that hurt later and counted down from ten. "He wants to talk to me. I know he does. He still wants me; I don't care what that stupid judge says. I know he wants me! Nobody else does, but he does. I want to go home! Screw this place. I hate it here, no one likes me. You don't even want me here, just let me call my dad and go home!"

Yvonne sunk to the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks, letting her thick dark hair make a wall over her face and arms. Hector knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder and she pushed it away and he backed up slightly.

"Vee, that's a lie you've got stuck in your head," he said softly. "Don't you listen to that crap. You're wanted here. Your friends want you here. Lots of people want you to be right where you are."

"I wish," the girl sobbed under her hair. The words always made the hair stand up on the back of Sarah's neck and her knuckles went white as she gripped the desk tighter, "I wish he'd come and get me and take me home like he promised to do. I wish he'd take me away."

Sarah let out a small bit of the tension in her shoulders, those weren't the right words. Sarah didn't know if there really were "right words", but she knew enough to know that Vee didn't really, truly mean what she was saying.

She knelt next to the girl, "Vee, I'm sorry. I'm sorry he promised you things that haven't come true. I really am. I know it's hard when what we want and what we wish for don't line up. Everyone here, and I mean everyone from Mr. H to myself know what it's like to feel like no one cares. I know it's hard to understand, but if you're not supposed to be calling your Dad it's for a good reason. I need you to trust me, okay? You're not in trouble, you just slipped up. It's not the end of the world, but I'd like you to not try that again, okay?"

Yvonne didn't make any movement to signal agreement, but she also didn't move away or start yelling again.

"I can take it from here Hector, we're good. You get back to the archery range before they go feral on you."

Hector nodded in agreement, one of the best things about him was that he always knew when to stay and when to go. He didn't say anything more to Yvonne, he never had corny lines or crappy affirmations, he just put a hand on her shoulder and gave the girl a squeeze. It said everything he needed to say. The door clicked on his way out and Sarah let the silence hang as she reached in the top drawer of her filing cabinet. She could almost sense the girl perk up just a bit at the sound of the metal scraping as it opened. All the kids knew that the top drawer was where Sarah kept the good stuff.

She dropped the bag of candy on the chair next to the girl. "Take your time Vee, we don't need to go back out there until you're ready," she busied herself with shuffling some paperwork around.

The girl was digging through the bag of candy, looking for the orange Starbursts most likely, when the phone rang.

"Hello? This Sarah Williams, Camp Director for…. Hello?" She was about to hang up the receiver when a voice finally spoke up.

"Hello, Sarah, we need to speak to you about her," the voice on the other end replied. Sarah straightened a bit in her chair; that was Yvonne's last name.

"You're going to need to be a lot more specific than that. Let's start with who is this?" Years of dealing with kids with messy custody agreements, no contact orders and court files that climbed to knees had made her careful about what she said about her campers.

"We need to talk to her. She is wanted elsewhere." Sarah held the receiver a little farther from her ear, the feedback or connection was grating.

"Maybe you didn't hear me, who are you?" She was on her feet now and she could tell Yvonne could sense her tension too as the girl stopped sifting through the bag of candy not looking at Sarah, but on alert.

"We must tell her she is wanted elsewhere, we wish -"

That was the last straw.

"Like hell you will!" Sarah shouted as she slammed the receiver down.

Sarah didn't realize she had been holding her breath until Yvonne spoke, "What was that? Was it for me?"

Sarah took a deep breath and brushed her hair back out of her face. "What? No, it was some punk just trying to be creepy. We get calls like that more than I'd like. It's nothing to worry about."

Yvonne met her gaze, dark brows furrowing ever so slightly waiting for Sarah's face to show signs of her lie. Sarah stared back, "Don't worry about it. We can usually reverse search the numbers and it's almost always some bored twelve-year-old in hiding in their basement. If you've eaten all my orange Starbursts, how about we head back out to archery, hm?"

"Yeah sure," the girl shrugged with the kind of apathy only a fifteen-year-old girl could muster.

Sarah gathered up her baseball cap and sunglasses when Yvonne spoke up again, "Sorry… about using the phone. I know I'm not supposed to, but sometimes… sometimes I feel like no one would give a crap if I just disappeared into thin air. Like no one would even notice."

"Well, you know what I always say about junk like that right?"

Vee smiled, a pained little smile, but a genuine one, "That it's bullshi-"

"Yep. And what else do I say?"

"You didn't hear me say that?"

"Bingo."

Yvonne grabbed another handful from the candy bag and spun out of the office.

Sarah glanced back at her office and let the shudder race down her back that she'd been holding back since she slammed down the phone receiver. It wasn't just the phone call that should have set her on edge and raised her hackles, it wasn't the voice on the line - the one that sounded a little off, too monotone and with a strange sharp edge she just couldn't place.

The phone calls always shook her a bit more than she liked. Sometimes it was just bored, stupid kids calling in a prank, but other times it would be a family member who wasn't supposed to call and would be too desperate, cruel or messed up to care what they said. Sarah was brave, her time Underground had taught her that, but she preferred her adversaries where she could see them and stare them down. Dealing with voices through a phone rattled and distracted her more than she liked. If she had been less distracted she might have noticed that a large black crow had been perched in the tree just outside her office window. If she had been less distracted she might have noticed that the crow had watched the whole ordeal intently. If she had been less distracted she might have noticed that the crow smiled as it suddenly disappeared.

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That night Sarah dreamed of birds, not snowy white owls this time. No, this was a dream filled with crows.

She was standing in what looked like the soccer field in front of the camp and she could hear the crunch of the summer scorched grass under her feet. In front of her, perched on the soccer goals was an unnerving line of stark, black crows. She stared at them and they stared back, tilting their heads back and forth, but always keeping her in sight. Suddenly the birds snapped to the side in a painful unison, the wind around her whipped up, blowing grit into her eyes and pelting gravel against her shins.

Something caught the corner of her eye and she turned her head slightly, not trusting the incongruous line of birds to be out of her sight. Standing next to her in the field was Yvonne. No, not just Yvonne, it was a line of her campers stretching back as far as she could see. Each girl stood rigidly at attention, each with a despondent look across their face.

From the goal post the largest of the crows stretched out its wings and leaped to th ground. She could see now that it was nothing like a normal bird, it was much larger and it wasn't shaped right. It looked as if it had been shaken apart and put haphazardly back together and as it moved with an awkward gait across the lawn towards the girls it seemed to crack and bend around itself. Its legs bent at unnatural angles that jutted from too many joints. Its wings grew large and cumbersome while it's black feathers bent like jointed fingers, flexing in and out. It tried to pull itself up to standing, but the spine collapsed in on itself, but still the creature pushed against its rebelling body and all the while it cawed, steady and grating to Sarah's ears. The unnerving sound escaped from a twisted black beak lined with jagged teeth and as it twisted its head this way and that it gave a gross facsimile of a smile. With each outburst the remaining crows on the goal post joined into a cacophonous chorus, growing louder and more shrill by the moment.

Sarah tried to move, but her feet felt like lead; they dragged along the ground, lazy and unyielding.

She must get to the girls before it does.

Her feet drug upon the ground, carving ditches deeper and deeper with every step.

As the creature reached out with one disjointed wing toward the girl she could hear words in the clamor of the crows. The broken finger like feather plucked at strands of Yvonne's dark hair but the girl made no attempt to pull away.

Say. Say. Words. Say.

The ground was up to her waist and then her shoulder, but still Sarah pressed forward trying to claw at the dirt in front of her. The dry, parched soil crumbled in her fingers and blew back into her eyes and mouth.

Say Right. Right.

Words. Say.

Desperate she threw her arms up as the dirt around her began to cave in.

Say.

Right.

Words.

Above her, just out of reach Yvonne looked over her shoulder with eyes full of sadness and despair. Sarah opened her mouth to scream her name, but the hole sucked her down deeper, filling in her mouth, eyes and nose as it cut off any sound she could hope to make.

The last thing she saw before the dark pit swallowed her whole was that toothed beak curving into a predator's smile.

You, little girl, are in over your head.

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**4/8/20. Combining chapters and some little edits and additions...**

**... that was creepy. Thanks for the feedback so far!**


	5. Standing at the Gate

Chapter 5

"Hey boss, we need you at the front gate pronto," Hector spoke as soon as Sarah lifted the receiver to her ear.

Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, "Code Green?"

"No." Sarah let out a relieved sigh. Code Green was an attempted runaway by one of the campers; it was rare, but it happened. "But there are people here I think you need to talk to."

"Be right there, Hector."

Sarah pulled her hoodie on over her head, it had been threatening rain all day and a cold wind had blown in. Definitely odd for the middle of July. A steady wind was shaking the tops of the trees and whipped her hair from her ponytail into her eyes as she walked down the front gate. She scanned the trees as she walked, not looking for owls she realized, but looking for crows. Her dream last night was still in her mind, so vivid and intense that she had woken drenched in sweat with her heart racing. She could see Hector standing on the camp side of the gate with a posture that said he was ready to play defense. On the other side of the gate stood three figures in black suits around an equally black car and she couldn't help but quote Shakespeare in her mind. _First thing we do, kill all the lawyers._

Lawyers were never a welcome sign at the camp. They meant court cases that shook the kids from weeks of foundation building. They delivered news about jail for parents, altering foster care arrangements, dissolved guardianships and sometimes death. Lawyers were never a good sign.

"How can we help you?" Sarah said, voice rising to be heard over the wind.

"Ms… Williams?" asked the suit in the center; a rather non-descript person with close-cut hair and an androgynous cut to their suit. "We are from the Committee."

Sarah glanced over at Hector as he shifted ever so subtly on his feet.

"And what committee would that be?"

"We are from the Committee and we're here to speak to Ms. Henderson-Cortez," the person replied as Sarah ground her teeth. She hated being handled.

"Well, folks, we're going to be standing here forever unless I can see some credentials."

"We need to speak to Ms. Henderson-Cortez. It is urgent."

"Listen, buddy, I wasn't born yesterday. You either show me something official or my associate over there will finish speed dialing the cops. I suggest you stop messing around and do as I say or leave."

"If you would just let us in, we wish to -" At that, both Hector and Sarah were on the move toward the gate.

Sarah stuck out a hand, a signal for him to stand down for now. "Hector, call the cops. As for you," she said balling her hands into fists at her side, "you have no power, I mean, you have no authority here. We're done talking. I don't know who you think you are, but unless you want to have a nice long conversation with my friends over at the station you'll get in that shiny car of yours. Now."

They made no move to go, and Sarah's gut tightened; it was a rare bunch of bother that didn't shoot away at the mention of involving the police.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me," she tried again, drawing herself up and bracing her hands against the gate. "This is my camp and unless you can give me a damned good reason you have no power here."

The person she had been speaking to narrowed his or maybe her eyes and Sarah noted that they were slightly different colors. The air hung still for just a moment too long.

"We were mistaken."

"That's what I thought."

The suits turned and climbed back into their car, but Sarah refused to move from her spot at the gate until the dust the car kicked up on the road had settled back down.

Sarah and Hector walked back to the camp office in silence and Sarah's mind was spinning. She had dealt with a lot of confrontation at those front gates over the years. From the damnable lawyers and distraught grandparents to drugged-out parents. She'd handled threats, more than a few screaming matches, rocks thrown and even a threat of a gun in the car. She'd had to issue lockdowns and extra security, but she'd never been more shaken than she was right now. Every atom in her body cried out in a fight or flight response to everything about those people. Everything about them, from the cadence of their voices to the stillness of the air around them to those odd, mismatched eyes was both very familiar and very wrong. Something was wrong and she knew what she'd have to do to get some answers.

After she and Hector had debriefed about the situation at her office about the extra state trooper patrol and initiating lockdown procedures for the night Sarah had excused herself to wrap up a few things in her office promising to be down to dinner soon. Instead of calling the social services offices like she claimed she was going to do she sat at her desk, rolling a pen absently between her fingers. They were simple words that she needed to write and still, her stomach turned in knots and with a deep breath she scratched out the words on her notepad and propped it in the window.

_We need to talk_, it read. _Tonight._

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Sarah splashed some water on her face as she contemplated how, exactly, did one preparing to confront a bad dream? She'd worked so hard since her teenage escapade Underground to be careful; careful with what she thought, read and even what she ate before bedtime. She was the quintessential fun hater in college who never had a wild night at the bar or a hazy afternoon in the dorm. She always wanted to be in control and was always worried that if she gave in just a little bit she'd lose that tenuous bit of power she claimed to have. And here she was about to throw it all out the window. Hopefully, it would be worth it; she needed answers and she needed them now.

She'd spent years trying to forget what had happened, but it was hard to forget knowing so much more. It wasn't that she made the mistaken wish and ran the Labyrinth that really got to her. She had forgiven herself for putting Toby in danger as she grew older and well, on rare occasions she could reflect on the run and the wonderful, but terrible things she encountered as a thrilling adventure. It wasn't what she went through that was hard to deal with later, it was how everything she experienced later was seen through eyes that had seen the fantastic.

Teachers never captured her attention the same way as the Wise Man did. Friends were never quite as loyal or as brave. She remembered coming home from prom to her eager stepmother ready to listen to an enraptured teenage girl recount the most wonderful night of her young life and Sarah couldn't quite muster up the enthusiasm Karen wanted. It wasn't that the dance hadn't been fun and a night to remember, but how could a high school party and awkward teenage dancing compare to being waltzed around a magical ballroom? And though she was loathe to admit it even the boys, and later the men, she dated were hard to compare to her experiences there; not that she had really believed any of the honeyed words he fed her were sincere, but knowing that those words existed would mean she always went home just a little disappointed.

_Of course_, she would tell herself, _at least in the real world there's a lot less glitter._

And so she waited and waited and paced around her room for an hour before she realized that she really should have been more specific about the time in her note.

In a huff, she opened her cabin window and scanned the tree line and there in the dark perched a snowy white owl. Just like a hundred times before Sarah glared at it; of course he wouldn't make this easy for her. And just like a hundred times before, the owl glared back.

"Well come on," she hissed into the dark, "I haven't got all night."

The owl seemed to think for a moment before stretching its wings and gliding down to rest on her windowsill and came no further.

"Seriously," Sarah let out an exasperated moan. Of course, he would make this as difficult and drawn out as possible. "Are you waiting for an invitation, your majesty?"

The owl glared.

"I really hate you," Sarah sneered in response. "Fine, will you please come in so we can talk?"

In the moment, the space of a blink, that the words left her mouth the bird was gone.

"Well, my precious thing, I thought you'd never ask," came a voice, as smooth as silk, from behind her. It came a little closer and she could feel the hair on her neck rise, "Tell me now, did you miss me?"

Sarah let herself take a deep, centering breath and drew it in through her nose and willed it down to her fingers and toes. She gathered every measure of reason and rationality in her body, repeating in her old mantra in her mind - _you have no power over me_ \- as she spun on her heels and slapped him squarely across his smug face.

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Edited and chapters combined 4/9/20


	6. This Way and That

Chapter 6

The Goblin King, for once in his long life, was speechless.

For a moment the air in the room seemed to shift and Sarah thought she could make out the outline of a cape flaring behind him and the hint of the dark armor he had once worn to torment her dark tunnels shaping around him. The room seemed to contract and dim and for the briefest of moments she was worried; then he breathed out and it all faded back to reality.

There he stood in front of her, still all sharp lines and wild hair, still with a flair for the dramatic, still a little otherworldly and disconcerting, but intriguing at the same time. She couldn't help but notice that he appeared a little more sedate in his choice of clothing; a little less glam rock ren faire with his shirt cut more simply and his hair, though it appeared to be fighting the effort, pulled back at his neck. She was surprised to feel a moment's embarrassment at standing before him in old leggings, a stretched out tank top and an old baggy sweater. He scowled and flexed his gloved hands at his side.

"Now, Sarah, whatever could I have done to deserve that?"

The laugh that came out of her mouth surprised her, "Oh I don't know, your majesty, maybe stalking, kidnapping, emotional and physical trauma, more stalking and having to be on guard for everything thing I think, say or dream so I don't get pulled into your insane depravity again."

"Well, when you put it like that… it just sounds like fun," he said with a smirk.

"Bastard."

He shrugged, tugging on a gloved hand.

"That may be, but I hardly think that you called me here tonight to discuss my many, many charms. Dare I ask what demands will you make of me this time? Are you feeling the need to destroy more cities? Beguile some more of my gormless citizens? Wreak havoc and destruction on everything I do for you?"

"Everything you do for me? How dare you! You tried that line on me once before Goblin King, it didn't work when I was a teenager and it won't work now," Sarah spat at him as she stalked toward him.

He moved quickly and began to circle her.

"Sarah, Sarah," he crooned, leaning close to her ear, "Still trying to cast me as the villain in your little play are you?" Sarah froze; acutely aware of just how close he was to her. "Did my Labyrinth not teach you that things are not always what they seem?"

He broke away quickly and she had to stop herself from stumbling from the release of tension in her entire body.

"You, for instance, appear to be a normal, mild-mannered," he scoffed a bit at his own words as he rubbed his cheek, "young woman." He reached up and tucked a gloved finger gently under her jaw. Instead of taking a step back as she knew she should have Sarah locked eyes firmly with him as he continued; his voice smooth and soft once again. "But if I look this way," he turned her head ever so slightly to one side, "I see a brave heroine, beloved by all, the savior of wished away babies from the clutches of evil kings. A young woman worthy of the awe and reverence of all that gaze upon her. And if I look that way," he turned her face to the other side, a sneer sliding into his tone, "I see a brazen little force of chaos and destruction and an obnoxious thorn in my side."

He dropped her chin and turned away from her.

"Thorn in your side?" she hissed. "That's rich coming from someone who stalked me in both my dreams and reality for years."

She could see the muscles across his back tightened with that and he let out a little, sardonic laugh, "Oh little Sarah, you still have the audacity to believe that you could tear my world apart and it would still revolve around you? You made it quite clear in our last meeting don't you remember?" He glanced over his shoulder. "I have no power over you."

The words shook her. She had forgotten just how much power words had around him.

"But you've been here," she reached out and took his arm, forcing him to face her. "You show up all the time. You show up as that damned bird and you follow me just out of the corner of my eye and try to force your way into my head while I sleep. You're constantly around and you're saying you had no control over that at all?"

"Sarah, you understand so little of the world that I come from. You laid the terms of your victory, you made it clear to the fates and all magic that I could not reach out or approach you. No actions of mine could pull, guide or sway you from then on. But I am still who I am, I am at the beck and call of all who know of me. Most of my kind can only appear in this world if someone calls for us and you, my lovely little force of destruction," he leaned toward her, a mischievous glint in his eye as he brushed a dark lock of hair behind her ear, "have a bad habit of calling for me, personally."

Sarah could feel the heat rise up her neck and spread across her face.

"However," he continued, "you are still exceptionally good at being vague and inviting my presence only to a point. I can not tell you the number of headaches you have caused as you push and pull for me in your dreams alone. Really my dear, just make up your mind."

"So that's it then?" Sarah spat. "This is all my doing and since I won't let you close enough to fully invade my life or my dreams you've started sending your lackeys to do your dirty work for you? Honestly, your Majesty, I would have preferred a closet full of goblins to your latest detachment."

His eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean. The dream you sent me last night with the crows and then the people that showed up today at the camp. Is this all because you can't get to me in the normal routes? Because that is a sick and twisted head game even for you. I don't care if we have to battle this out until doomsday, you can leave my kids out of this."

"Sarah," he said, reaching out for her hand. She tried to pull away, but he held tight and met her gaze with those mismatched eyes. "Sarah, I promise you I have no idea what you are talking about. You have not reached out to me in your dreams since you last threw a rock at me."

"Well, who were they then? They definitely weren't human. If you didn't send this "committee" then who did?"

He suddenly gripped her hand tighter, pulling her closer to him, "What did you say? What did they call themselves?"

"They kept saying they were the Committee," she said cautiously. "Why? What does that mean? What's going on?"

His grip loosened and he stumbled backward a step, "Damn it. They found a way."

Sarah froze as his hand fell away from her arm; the air in the room went still and heavy and something pricked in the back of her mind. A warning, a siren; fear. She had felt like this only once before, after biting into a peach that wasn't what it seemed.

"What did you do?" She whispered, swearing to herself she would not cry; that he would not see her break.

He didn't respond.

His mismatched eyes seemed dazed and out of focus. She stopped her foot on the ground as hard as she could and shouted, "What. Did. You. Do!"

This shook him out of his melancholy trance, he snarled, "What did I do? What did I do? Oh yes, we're back to this song and dance again aren't we? I do everything you ask. I stay at your beck and call. I let you pull my very world down around me and when it all goes to hell, you have the nerve to ask me, what did I do?"

He stalked past her, "To use that lovely expression you are ever so fond of, precious, it is not fair."

"Damn it, stop talking in riddles tell me what you mean. I have done nothing but try and live my life since I ran the Labyrinth. I've tried to leave it all behind me and move on and do something good with my life, which is more than I can say for some."

He let out a truly callous laugh this time, "You foolish, impudent little thing. Do you still believe after all these years that you could just close the door on the Underground and set it aside like that little book and your childhood toys, tucked away and forgotten? You spent time in the Underground, you went up against magic and won; that is not something you can just put inside your toy chest with the rest of your childhood. It changed you in ways you do not understand, and now it's finally caught up with you. You never did learn to ask the right questions and you still refuse to think about the consequences. You've been out here in the world using the little magic in you to continue to play the hero, but you forget that for every plucky heroine there is a villain waiting just around the corner."

Sarah rolled her eyes at this as she broke off his monologue, "Yes, and mine is a one-man, glitter-covered variety show with a knack for dramatic lighting."

"Oh Sarah," he sighed with a wry grin, "I don't deny that I can be quite villainous when needs be, but I am most certainly not your villain."

She was about to retort again when, mercurial as ever, his mood changed and he reached out for her hand. This time it was not a show of agitation or a tease, but a gesture that, in a human, she would have considered sincere.

"What is after you now is worse than anything you could ever find in my maze and though I can see in your face that you are not afraid," he pulled her closer and met her gaze, "I am."


	7. Too Much Exposition

Chapter 7

The room stood still for a moment as those words sunk in. Standing before her was the cruel, cold-hearted being who stole her brother and terrorized her journey through the Labyrinth. It was the same person who taunted and teased and tricked her over and over again until she could no longer tell up from down. Yet, for a moment, his eyes almost seemed caring and his voice, had she not known any better, sounded truly concerned. She hadn't even noticed that she had instinctively gripped his hand too and for a moment it felt solid, warm, and comforting. She released the gloved hand though he kept a hold around her palm.

"Enough with the cryptic hints," Sarah said, trying to steady her voice, as she slid her hand out of his grasp. "What is going on? You need to tell me clearly. No riddles. No games. No half-truths. Now."

The authority in her voice seemed to shake him out of his thoughts and the brief look of concern clouded over with consternation again. He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and drummed his fingers along his hips as he thought.

Sarah couldn't help stifle a little laugh, "Is it really so much work, to tell the truth, Goblin King?"

His fingers stopped drumming, but he gave no other response and Sarah sat down on the edge of her bed, taking satisfaction in a direct hit.

He stood there thinking for some time and for a moment she felt sorry for the odd, otherworldly man; it must be hard to have any conversations when every world can be twisted and used against you. It must be exhausting to know that others have that kind of power over you. Just as her mind was about to wander down that path he clapped his hands together, ran his gloved fingers through his hair as he leaned against the windowsill.

"I think you know well enough that my world is not like yours. It follows different rules, different prerogatives, but what we can't escape is that your world is vitally important to mine. I'm not sure how exactly, but they feed off one another; they're symbiotic. Most of the time it balances out - your worlds creativity and imagination feeds our, well what you would probably call magic, and our magic becomes the fuel for your imaginations. But it's not always so bucolic. Many in my world have found ways of feeding, no, leeching off the darker sides of your world. There are those who have found strength from your hate and malice, the violence and war and in turn, and oh humans are so very good at it. There are also those that prey on the most vulnerable, they're like vultures feeding off the discarded and unwanted of your world. They are carrion feeders at the best of times, but your world has slowly been drifting farther away from mine - people don't believe the old stories as much anymore and some have gotten more and more desperate. The Committee is a group of the worst of these. They are desperate and magic starved and that makes them dangerous."

"But I thought you said your kind can't come here unless we call on you? How did they get here?"

"Words matter, but so does intent. They've honed their abilities over millennia to force their way through the smallest openings in humans' wishes and dreams. The dark ones, the desperate ones. The ones where you wish yourself out of existence or convince yourself of your own unworth, it's depression and fear and so much more. The Committee feeds on these thoughts and they take them away and use them to fuel their lives and their magic for as long as they can."

"Why are they here?"

"Because of you, my dear."

"Me?"

"Yes, a Labyrinth winner takes a little bit of the Underground with them. Not a lot, perhaps you've heard the term faery-touched before? It makes you, well, unique in your world. You left the Labyrinth feeling like a champion for the unwanted and you've used that magic to collect them together- the lost, the hurt, the unwanted and that is the Committee's favorite prey. I'm guessing they're after someone in particular?"

"Yes, one of my girls. They asked for her by name. Why do they want her?"

"They are attracted to despair, to those who don't see their own worth, to those without hope in their lives. They promise to take all those hurts away, to make it all disappear and when the time is right they wish them away. Forever. I'm guessing this particularly appeals to this child."

Sarah's mouth went dry. She didn't want to know the answer, but she had to ask, "What do they do to them?"

He hung back a moment, chewing on his lips before he gave a resigned sigh.

"On the outside, it's not much different than the ballroom spell you experienced. Except that it is not just a distraction, it becomes a prison. They trap them in their own minds, in a dream that never ends and all the while the Committee draws magic and strength from their misery and sorrow until there is nothing left but a shadow of what once was."

Sarah gathered her legs to her chest and pushed her face against her knees, anything to distract from the bubbling panic rising in her chest. She could feel the tips of her fingers grow cold and her arms start to tremble as her body fought against the shock. She had spent her life trying to help and she had only placed these kids in more danger. He was right, she did not understand the Underground and now everything was at risk. Sarah did not need to look up to know that he was staring intently at her through it all; how he must be reveling in her weakness and fear now.

"You must be enjoying this," she muttered, peaking her eyes out to see him, but thought better of it and buried her face into her knees again. She didn't need to see him gloating at a time like this. "Isn't it what you've wanted since I defeated you as the world fell down? Foolish little Sarah, making a mess of things again."

"Sarah, I - " he began and stopped. The floorboards gave a small creak as he shifted his weight and the silence hung in the air.

BANG. BANG.

Sarah gave a small yelp as someone pounded against her door, breaking the silence. In a split second she was on her feet, her fear pushed down in the back of her mind, and in her haste she nearly ran right into the back of the Goblin King who was just as suddenly across the room standing between her and the door, magic swirling at his feet. He thrust out his arms in front of her and in the chaos of the moment she couldn't help but grip the fabric of his shirt sleeves. The tips of her fingers danced with little pricks of energy and for a moment Sarah wondered if that was how magic felt.

"Sarah," came a familiar voice behind the door frame. Hector. "Are you awake?"

Sarah ducked around him and opened the door slightly, "Yeah, I'm here. What's the news, Hector?"

"Not much, which is probably a good thing. State Troopers called, said they found that car about twenty miles away filled with some college kids who fit the profile you gave them. Apparently they were coming down off a good trip, but he said he'll send a car or two to patrol the area tonight just to be sure."

Sarah let out a sigh of relief, "Thanks man, that's good to hear. Let the counselors know they can get out of DEFCON mode for the rest of the night and to get some rest. You do the same."

Hector paused for a moment, "You do the same, you look like hell."

Sarah laughed, "You always know just what to say. Night Hector, see you in the morning… after I've had my coffee."

"Not a chance boss," he said with a wink and turned to go.

Sarah shut the door behind him, turning back to her magical houseguest who still stood near the edge of her bed, swirling magic into the air.

"Stand down, Sparkles," she said with a half-hearted smile, while a part of her noted that there was something almost endearing about the sight while the more rational part of her actively tried to push that notion out of a window. "Maybe this was all a false alarm after all."

"No, I don't think so. Sarah, I need you to promise me that you will keep the girl they were looking for on the grounds. It might not be much, but your magic protects her here for now. I don't know why, but this feels bigger than just one wished away child. Keep her here until I can come back with what news I can gather. It may take a little bit of time; my subjects, being mainly imbecilic ingrates with a disturbing fondness for poultry, make terrible spies."

Sarah, despite the knots in her stomach, couldn't help but laugh, "Yes, I do remember that." The smile left her lips quickly, "Why are you doing this? What's in it for you?"

It was his turn to give a little laugh as he leaned close to her again, a little too close. "You and I have more in common than you realize. While I agree that I can be most villainous in many regards," Sarah involuntarily felt her breath catch at this, "your insistence in believing that I am your villain, well, it's just not fair."

And in a flash, he was gone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Update 4/10/20 - just a little editing and cleaning up


	8. Desperate Times

Chapter 8

"If you tell me I look like hell, Hector, I swear to God I'll bog you right here and now," Sarah said, eyes closed working her way through her fourth cup of coffee of the day. She had her feet propped up on her desk and a pamphlet over her eyes when Hector walked through the door.

"You must be losing it, I don't even know what you said. Is this a weird white girl word or are trying to sound cool again? You know how that ended up last time."

Sarah froze for a second, what had she just said? "I meant, fire you." She glared from behind her pamphlet fortress. "I must have grabbed the decaf; today has been the day from hell."

"Tell me about it, Sarah," Hector said. "It's like there's something in the air. I think every cabin has had someone fighting or crying all day."

It had been a strange and off-putting day since the moment she woke up. Though she had slept soundly after her meeting the night before she woke up in a foul mood. The air seemed to hum with the spiky electricity that arrives before a thunderstorm, but instead of coming to a head in a calamitous display of thunder and lightning the day had just gotten hotter and more humid to the point that by dinner time everyone from staff to kids were wilted and short-tempered as they drug their feet into the cafeteria. The meal was a tense affair, with plenty of slammed trays and huffs and sighs as everyone petulantly picked their way through dinner. Shuffling the food this way and that around their plates. After everyone had been rounded up and marched off to their cabins for the night in sulky groups Sarah had gone straight to her office and right to her the drawer where she kept the extra strength Ibuprofen and resolved not to think for the next thirty minutes, at least.

Outside the sky lit up with heat lightning and clouds rumbled in the distance.

"Yeah, I know most of them have ended up in my office." Sarah lifted the pamphlet off her face and began ticking off the list on her fingers. "Mia and Kinsey had to be physically separated, and those two have been best friends since kindergarten. Tasia had some PTSD trigger and wouldn't let any of the male counselors near her; we still don't know what it was. Avery flat out refused to leave her cabin this morning and Sophia, that little first grader who barely looks anyone in the eye? Stands up in the middle of arts and crafts and starts swearing up a storm and actually spit on the art teacher. I'm done. Closed for business. Come back tomorrow."

Sarah put her feet back up with a thud and replaced her papers on her face.

"Alright, just wanted to check on you before I headed out. Get some sleep, we have to save the world tomorrow," Hector said as he started to close the door.

"You've never let me forget that," Sarah said with a sigh.

She heard the door creak open once again. "You know, it could have been worse. At least Vee stayed out of your hair today."

"Yeah that's true, that would have been -"

The coffee cup that she had been holding shattered on the floor at the same time her door, thrown open now, hit the wall.

"Did you see her at dinner?" Sarah said, trying to keep her voice level and calm.

"I - I don't know. I think so … maybe… I'm not sure." The color had dropped out of Hector's face and he was running his hands through his hair. She could hear him swearing under his breath as he racked his memory. She tried to dig through her own memory; it was only an hour ago, why was it so hazy? They always did attendance, they must have done it tonight, but why couldn't she remember it.

"Sarah!" A shout came from down the hall as Jenny, one of the counselors came running toward them in tears. "Sarah I don't know how it happened. I'm so so sorry, I don't know how I missed her. I swear I counted her at dinner and on our way back. It wasn't until I was about to turn out the lights that I realized her bed was empty. No one saw her leave and I don't know. Oh God, Sarah."

Sarah swore, loudly, and slammed her fist on the desk. "Okay, okay. We know what to do. She's probably just hiding out somewhere. Jenny, I need you to get a grip and go alert the other cabins, Code Green. One counselor stays in the cabin, the other goes to search their designated location. Do not let the girls see you panic okay? Jenny, you can do this. The sooner we get it together the sooner it will be over. Now go." Sarah turned to Hector, "You come with me, we need to get the truck."

They all dashed down the hallway, but before she could leave the building something caught her eye in a flash of lightning.

"Hector," she yelled over her shoulder, "meet me out front. I need to check something."

He began to yell over his shoulder as he started to slow down.

"Just trust me!" She yelled back and he was out the door.

Sarah turned and backtracked into the front office. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance, but it was that feeling of needles in the back of her neck that made her circle back. It was a feeling she'd had once before when a room had suddenly turned very, very wrong.

She stood there for what seemed like too long trying to figure out what was out of place. A crack of lightning lit up the room and she saw it, the receptionists phone dangling from its receiver; swaying ever so slightly just above the ground.

The air in the room suddenly felt heavy as she picked the receiver up and not knowing what compelled her, placed it to her ear.

For a moment all she could hear was her own heartbeat drumming in her ear before she heard it, ever so faintly - the cawing of crows.

The words were out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying, "You have no power over me!"

The cawing became louder until it morphed into a laugh, then cackle and then croaking, harsh voice. "Oh that maybe, Princess," it sneered, "but what can you do to protect them if they leave the castle? Do you think your white knight will save them? He's just like us in the end."

She dropped the receiver and flew down the hallway and out the door. Hector slammed on the breaks of the beat-up old pickup truck he was driving to keep from hitting her as she shot out the door. She jumped in the flatbed and yelled through the back window. "The front gate. Now!"

Hector didn't ask questions as he shifted the truck into gear and sped down the path. Sarah could feel the wind rising around her and the rain starting to fall, hot and sharp on her face. They just had to keep her on the property, then she could keep them safe.

With a squeal of old brakes and a crunch of gravel, Hector spun the truck to a stop in front of the metal gate. Sarah slammed into the side of the truck hitting her face against the metal; unprepared for the sudden stop and felt pain shoot up her wrist as she tried to brace herself. She jumped down from the bed of the truck, scanning the horizon in the growing darkness.

"Vee!" she cried to the dark.

Behind her, Hector's voice boomed beside her, "Yvonne!"

A flash of lightning lit up the road in front of them and there they could just make out a figure in the dark.

"Yvonne," Sarah yelled over the rumbling of thunder. "You need to come back inside the gate now! Yvonne!"

The girl did not move and between the rolls of thunder, Sarah could hear crows again.

What could she do? Part of Sarah's mind was still thinking through the rational choices when the rest of her jumped over the gate and ran towards the girl, grabbing at her arm.

Yvonne gave no resistance to her, nor did she move.

"Vee, come on. We need to get back. What is the matter with you?"

Sarah was close enough now to see that the girl's face was covered in wet streaks of tears, "You don't want me," she could hear her say.

"Don't be silly Vee, come back, we'll talk this through."

"Nobody wants me. Nobody cares. Nobody will even know I'm gone." Yvonne's voice was strangely monotone, her eyes unfocused. "I wish -"

"Don't you dare -" The cawing was growing louder now, filling Sarah's ears.

Almost lost in the growing howling wind Sarah could just make out Yvonne's voice, "I wish They would come and take me away."

A crash of lightning blinded Sarah for a moment and her senses struggled to make sense of what was around her. Slowly the spots faded from her eyes and the ringing faded from her ears and when she looked again her hands were empty.

The screech of the birds filled her head now, the shrill caws picking and scratching at her mind. She felt petrified as feelings of hopelessness and desperation washed over her like a wave. The weight of it brought her to her knees as she felt the tears begin to fall. It was hopeless, it was all so hopeless. No one would notice. No one would care.

The caws of the crows became the words from her dream once again, much too familiar.

_Say Your Right Words._

"I wish…" _She knew these words._

Somewhere in the screaming cacophony in her head, she could hear someone yelling her name.

"I wish…" _The right words would make everything better. She had failed, she was a failure and it was all so hopeless. All she ever did was put people in danger, they would be better off, safer, without her. If she could just leave it would be better, no one would notice, no one would care._

She felt arms around her, dragging her backward and a voice yelling in her ear though it felt like it was coming from miles away, "Sarah, what's the matter? Sarah!"

Sarah could barely hear his voice through the raging sound of her own thoughts. She fought free of his hands, she could feel something pulling at her now, and could feel words forming on her mouth that were not her own.

"I wish…" the words were coming out of her mouth and she could not stop them. She looked for Hector and saw his arm reach out for her once more, grabbing tightly around her wrist as she struggled to stop her own tongue. She could see his mouth moving, but could not make sense of the words. He pulled her close and clamped a hand over her mouth, as words began to bubble from her chest.

"I wish," Hector yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos in her mind, as he looked her straight in the eye," the Goblin King would take us away. Right. Now."


	9. We Could Be Heroes

It was a bad dream; a very bad dream. Maybe it was a hangover, it kind of felt like a hangover; her head was pounding and her stomach churned. Sarah put her hands to her face, her skin felt clammy and there was a sharp pain building behind her eyes. She could feel cold stone on her cheek, but when she put her hands to the floor to push herself up the pain shot up her wrist and Sarah knew she let out a yelp of pain as she hit the floor again, rolling to her back.

_Where am I? What just happened?_

She tried to open her eyes, but when she did the room swam in front of her with shadows and faces coming in and out of focus. Hector. Hector was in front of her and she could hear his voice, but could not make sense of the sounds that drifted in and out of her thrumming ears. The pain was back behind her eyes, sharp and stabbing. She let out a moan that grew and built with the pressure in her head to a guttural howl of pain. As she dug her heels into the floor she could hear the voice, Hector's voice, yelling louder and faster.

_What is going on? Why is there so much pain? Please, someone… help._

The agony was a rising wave pushing against her head and then, in an instant, it was gone. The sensation of needles pushing out from her brain was replaced by the feeling of cool fingers on her forehead and then of hands gently cupping her face and her skin tingled with little jolts of static energy. Her eyes focused on the person before her and two mismatched and panicked eyes stared back at her. The crashing hum in her ears began to fade away and she could hear his familiar voice repeating her name over and over.

She could hear Hector now too, "Sarah, come on, say you're okay. Just say something."

Sarah turned her head towards his voice, forcing words up out of lungs still struggling for breath, "Hector… you are so fired."

She could hear his relieved, nervous laugh as a wave of exhaustion washed over her and she struggled to keep her eyes open as she turned back to the mismatched eyes staring at her through a shock of wild hair. She noticed then that he held her hand lightly in his and she flexed her fingers and wrist slightly without pain. His hand gripped slightly tighter with the movement and she smiled ever so slightly as she closed her eyes.

"What just happened?" Sarah managed in a whisper as she felt herself being lifted off the cold stone floor. Her head began to swim again and she leaned into a soft shoulder and wrapped her hand around the fabric of his shirt as she felt them begin to move across the room.

"Well, it appears I just did something incredibly foolish and saved your life," he said with a chuckle, just barely a rumble in his chest. "Most likely a terrible decision on my part and one I'll probably regret in the morning."

"Why, Jareth," Sarah said as darkness fell over her once again, "how heroic."

* * *

**Short and sweet little chapter for tonight. This scene was dancing in my head all day and I just wanted to get it written out before I take a few days to finalize some outlining of the next part of the arc. Thanks for all the views and comments! You probably won't believe me, but this story did not start out in my mind as something so spooky and dark, it kind of has a mind of its own, but I'm having fun writing it. I promise it won't be all creepiness and angst. Hoping to be back by this weekend with another chapter or two !**


	10. Gnomes, Grandmas and Goblin Kings

Chapter 10

Sarah lay in the bed for a while after she woke up without opening her eyes. She could tell she was in a bed, could feel the sheets tucked in around her and the soft pillow under her head. If she lay there and didn't open her eyes she wouldn't have to understand where she was.

_I can just lay here and pretend that I'm in my pokey cabin cot, that the sheets are softer than usual because I used too much fabric softener and that the breeze I feel is coming from the window I left open last night after the storm. If I can just keep my eyes closed…_

"Goodness Sarah," a voice cut through her mental affirmations, "does waking up always require such a feat of concentration?"

_Damn it._

She reluctantly opened her eyes with an unwilling sigh and looked around the room. For a moment she struggled to make sense of what her eyes were seeing, the colors and shapes swam in and out of her vision until they rested at the foot of the bed. There, leaning against the canopied bed was the Goblin King, clothed in black, with a disparaging look draped across his face. His mouth was a thin line and knit brows framed dark circles around the incongruous eyes.

"You're looking quite villainous this morning," she said as she pushed herself up in the bed, head still swimming.

"I'm feeling quite villainous this morning," he replied as Sarah rolled her eyes. "Imagine how you would feel if your evening was interrupted by an imbecilic, heroic neer-do-well wishing himself and a magically whiplashed, half-dead spirited heroine into the middle of my bedroom and ruining any chance I had at a relaxing, quiet night at home."

"Liar," Sarah said in a beat.

"I beg your pardon?" For a moment he almost looked genuinely shocked at the word.

Sarah began with a smile. "You rule over a magical hedge maze and a kingdom full of ludicrous magical creatures, the vast majority of which are bizarrely attached to a cadre of rogue chickens. There is absolutely no way you were going to have a relaxing, quiet night at home."

The Goblin King shrugged off her rebuttal.

"Well," he continued with a smile. "You two did manage to track mud everywhere."

Sarah glanced down at the cuffs of her hoodie. There were dried patches of mud trailing up the arms and caked beneath her fingernails.

"That I can believe. So it was really that bad? It felt like my skull was about to break in half."

"Your stalwart knave wished you away in one direction as you were being pulled in another. A few minutes more and it would have been like tearing paper in half."

"Wow," Sarah managed and then straightened as it all fits into place and she remembered those last few terrifying moments of the night before. "Wait, Hector wished us here? He wished us directly to you? How did he - I think I need to lie down again."

She fell back on the bed.

"I'll fetch him, it's really not my story to tell."

While he was gone Sarah got to her feet, a little unsteadily and took in her surroundings. She had expected gaudy and glam, but the room around her was simple, almost minimal, though it still looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. The canopied bed was draped in damask in a pattern that reminded her of the swirling Chartres pattern from her world and fine furnishings lined the walls. All of the furniture was simple at first glance, but as she got closer she could see intricate patterns carved into every table leg and drawer; even the woodwork of the heavy wooden door seemed to have layers the more she looked at it. Nothing was as it seemed here she reminded herself. Along one side was a dry sink with a basin of water and a soft towel and she went to work removing the previous evening's mud from her face and hands as she pieced together the events from the previous evening.

Sarah looked up as the door opened and in walked her bedraggled friend.

"Sarah," he exclaimed while wrapping her in a tight hug; her arms pinned to her side. "Oh my God, Sarah, I thought you were dead. I didn't know that would happen, but you're okay, right? I'm so, so sorry."

"Hector," she knew he would ramble like this for a while if she didn't stop him. "Dude, I'm fine, but let go. You're crushing me."

"Okay, sorry. Just after last night and what happened at the gate and then being here. It's a lot to take in."

"Hector, I know this is all a lot. I owe you an explanation and I don't quite know how to begin."

"I know, Sarah," he interrupted. "I know about Toby and the maze and what happened to Vee, everything. He filled me in while you were asleep."

Sarah dropped her eyes to the floor, it was almost too much to have someone else know her story.

"I was a stupid, selfish kid who made a stupid, selfish mistake. Hector, why isn't this freaking you out more? There's something, a big something I don't know about isn't there?"

It was now Hector's turn to be quiet and withdrawn. She had seen this look on his face before; they had known each other for years, but while he was an open book about so much, trying to get anything about his childhood was a lost cause.

"I was wished away," he said as he let out a long breath. "Damn, I haven't said that out loud for a really long time. I got wished away, it happened and I've spent a long time trying to forget it happened. I was still pretty little and we never talked about it, and for a while, I just thought it was a bad dream."

"But they got you back? Like I got my brother?"

"Not quite, my mom wished me away." Sarah felt her stomach drop. She had been young and stupid and too wrapped up in a fantasy world built on denial and wishful thinking, what could have caused his mother to do such as thing? Sadly, after years in her line of work, she knew all too well and it made her reasons for wishing away Toby look all the more selfish and stupid.

"My mom was a classic case, we've seen them - got pregnant too young and had to grow up too fast. My Abuela says she tried for a while, really tried, but it all got too much and one night she just kind of snapped; she came to drop me off with Abuela for a bit and I just remember them yelling in the kitchen with me standing in the doorway. I don't quite know how she knew what to say - she grew up in a neighborhood that went to all the churches and said all the prayers and lit all the candles, but they also have some pretty creepy stories, especially ones they use to scare little kids. Anyways, she snapped, she said the words and I was gone. All I remember was suddenly being in a cave surrounded by these little weird creatures; they looked like little old men if men were made of potatoes. I thought they were funny, though I probably should have been more scared. I wasn't there for very long I think before my Abuela comes bursting in, yelling and screaming. I don't know what she said, but all of a sudden she had me by the hand and we were home. I thought I was in trouble, but instead, she made me hot chocolate and put me to bed in her room and after that, we never mentioned it again. I don't know what she did, but she got me back. My mom never came to pick me up."

"Oh Hector, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The two friends stood there in silence for a while.

"That story is a bit legendary around here," Jareth interjected from the doorway. "The gnomes wouldn't show their faces for months. They were so embarrassed. If I could, I would thank her personally for the sheer amusement of it all."

"Hector," Sarah reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Make sure your Grandma doesn't accept any baskets of fruit for a while and definitely no peaches."

Hector's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask Sarah started again.

"Wait, did she run the Labyrinth?"

"No, she wasn't one of my runners. Like I've said before, I'm not the only one in the Underground that humans call on to take care of problems for them. I believe the knave's grandmother grew up hearing stories of gnomes or goblins who stole naughty children away and that's what she faced. There is a kingdom of gnomes in the caves just to the west here. You still claim the only triumph here my dear." He swept into a sarcastic mockery of a bow, but as he raised his head again the smile could have almost passed for a laugh. "A few suggestions in his dreams last night planted the idea that should some magical travesty occur it would be better to call upon myself instead of the, how did you put it, old potato men? Quite a clever idea on my part if I do say so myself."

Sarah rolled her eyes, she was not in the mood to give magical monarch headpats today.

"Now if you're ready I can send you both back."

"Wait, what? No, we're not going back. They still have Yvonne, I need to get her back. This better not be more of that "go home and forget about the baby crap", because it didn't work on me then and it won't work on me now."

He took the space between them in a few strides and Sarah couldn't help but notice that his shirt seemed to darken ever so slightly as he did. The hairs on her arms stood on end as she felt the static-like energy that she was beginning to associate with magic.

"There is nothing more for you to do here," he reached out and took her arms firmly in his hands, looking into her eyes. His voice dropped ever so slightly into a tone of contrition. "I am sorry Sarah, but they have her and the best thing you can do is return to your world and make sure they don't get anyone else. I told you, the little magic that you have protects that place. It's not fair, but it's how it works."

She paused for a moment as she took in the gentleness in his words; there was no mockery, none of the usual sarcasm or subtle derision. She brought her hands up to his arms and for a moment time stood still.

"No." She pulled down on his arms, breaking their connection. "I refuse to accept that. I'm staying. Hector," she turned back to her friend, "I need you to go back; if I have magic you do too. If not get the police, put the camp on lockdown and do everything you can to keep them safe, but I'm not coming back unless I've got her."

Hector looked dazed for a moment, but nodded, "Yeah, I got it, but are you safe here?"

Hector had taken in a lot over the last few hours, and as odd and outlandish as the creature in front of him was he had not once felt entirely safe.

"Not at all… but it's what I have to do."

"Okay, but if you need me you, I don't know, wish me back right?"

"Deal."

A soft clapping came from behind them, "Well that was all terribly noble, but a waste of time." Sarah could feel the air around her change, the ground beneath her feet felt less certain and her skin began to tingle. "You are going back to where it is safe and I will turn the world upside down to do it if I have too."

Sarah felt panicked for a moment and her mind went blank and she felt like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff about to fall. This was it, she would go back and Vee would stay here and there was nothing she could do about it; she was -

"No!" Sarah shouted through the swirling magic all around her as a smile spread across her face, "How many times do I have to say it? You have no power over me."

**In most cultures there are spirits or things that come and take naughty children away, for this purpose I was inspired by the Duendes of Latin America (and few other cultures that have been influenced by Spain), their stories vary by region and culture, but they're often described as elves or goblins or pixies, etc. who lure children away.**


	11. The Ship Has Sailed

Chapter 11

The magic flared around her and dissipated around her feet leaving a ring of what had always looked like glitter to her blowing in the slight breeze it left behind. Hector was gone, but she remained. Sarah glared at the Goblin King and the Goblin King glared back. They stood in their bizarre stand off for a moment, each with lips drawn tight and faces flushed.

"Don't you ever try that again!" They yelled at each other in unison, but Sarah barrelled on, "I am not one of your creatures that you can push and pull at your every moody little whim! I have my own mind and my own autonomy and I do not let people, magic kings or no, push me around!"

Jareth's hand shot out and grasped her around the arm and drew her closer to him, hands on her shoulders, "And it's going to get you killed!"

The grip was hard, but his voice did not have the same edge.

"I understand Sarah, I know you are strong and brave and infuriatingly stubborn. I will never forget that you won, but this is not your world. This is not a world that plays by rules and where the consequences always make sense. This is magic and if you rush headfirst into everything it will kill you and despite what you may think I can't fix everything, I can't rearrange time and pull the world down every time you don't think something through! You must go back!"

"No! That is not an option, it's not even on the table. I will either leave with Vee or not at all. Why is it so urgent that I leave now? Why are you trying to get me out of here? You're not going to send me home to forget just like everyone else who took your bribes and fell for your fake dreams and smooth tricks so you could keep your prize!" Sarah pulled her arm back from his grasp and felt something tighten in her chest and her pulse began to race, "Oh my gods, why didn't I see it from the beginning? You! You do the same thing. You take people, make others forget, keep them forever," her words were coming out in heavy bursts now between labored breaths. "You take them and fill your kingdom and you're no different in the end… why… why… did I think you might be different? What are we to you? Playthings? Toys? Oh gods, food?"

Her feet were moving her back now and she tried to quell the rising panic that coursed through her body, "You're just the same as them, aren't you? Some deranged, glittering pied piper?"

Jareth made no movement, but the air around him seemed to change. But instead of glitter and dark, swirling magic he just laughed, "Well I'll admit you do have a plethora of surprisingly creative ways for describing me. How I must run circles through that pretty little head of yours."

"I am trying to be serious you -"

"You," he cut her off. "You are trying to work yourself up into a panic and as adorable as you might be when you're angry my dear, I'd really like to make it a full day with you in my kingdom without my castle being torn down around my ears."

"Stop sidestepping and answer me then."

"No, precious, I am not like the Committee. Despite what you may have taken away from our first meeting I am not some Underground pied piper out to steal children away in the dead of the night. What on earth would I do with all those children you mortals have tried to hoist upon me over the years? The goblins are bad enough."

"But you said you turned -"

"When you've been dealing with unexpected, and perturbingly moist, bundles of joy being dropped in your sitting room as long as I have you start to get creative with the script," he said with a shrug.

He reached out a hand towards her, but made no movements to take her arm, "You need fresh air, please?"

Sarah begrudgingly placed her hand in his and he led her to a tall window that opened on to a balcony. She leaned over the railing while trying to breathe and not be sick. Her will was strong, damn it.

Jareth stationed himself an arms reach away crossed his arms and waited as she gathered herself again.

"Okay," she began bracing her hands against the smooth stone railing. "So if nothing is as it seems here, and you aren't some evil, child thieving bastard then what are you?"

"I prefer chaotic but helpful," he said with a smirk.

"Helpful? You consider sending monsters and nightmares and the Cleaners after me to be helpful?"

"Well, I never said I didn't have a little fun with things," he said with another apathetic shrug, as if these were all perfectly normal things one might encounter on some daily errands. "But yes, precious, helpful. For hundreds of years the idea of a child spirited away to fairyland was a comfort to desperate people and a way to make sure that creatures like the Committee could not steal them away. You know as well as I do that not every story is the shame - desperation is not the same as malice - and not everyone is prepared for the unfairness of your world. In this way not all wishers are the same, some are sad, desperate people who would leave with a dream and reassurance of the safety and life they couldn't provide. Some are as devious as you would have me be and run the Labyrinth and learn some valuable lessons before they return to the world without the child they don't deserve and some...

"Yes?" Sarah didn't realize she was hanging on to his words until his speech slowed.

"Some have to barrel through the entire maze wreaking havoc and destruction everywhere they go like a one-woman typhoon of vexing, feather-headed optimism ."

"I did not wreak havoc and destruction!"

"Tell that to my favorite bridge."

She couldn't help but laugh; the panic that had swept through her had ebbed and she turned to him.

"You keep telling me that nothing is as it seems here and knowing that, I probably shouldn't trust you at all or believe a word you say," she stopped and he froze as she stepped closer to him, "but I do."

He kept his head down, mismatched eyes just daring to peek out under the wild thistledown hair, catching hers.

"But," she said sharply, jabbing a finger into his chest, "if this is another one of your plots and you betray me. I promise that a torn-down castle will be the least I do to you. I will tear down every stone of that maze and toss you headfirst into that god-awful bog of yours."

For a moment he looked truly scared and then a wide, cheshire grin broke through and he wrapped his hand around hers, resting them against his chest. "Dearest," he said as she steeled herself against that familiar hypnotic lilt in his voice, "if I ever do anything to deserve your wrath again, if I ever betray you, lie to you, you can have the Labyrinth…. bog and all."

She studied his face a moment, unaware of the space between them growing smaller, "Deal."

And then he kissed her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Maybe I should say the "ship" has finally come in. =)


	12. This Little Light of Mine

_And then he kissed her._

They say you never forget your firsts. You never forget that exhilarating moment you first ride a bike without training wheels. You never forget the nervous excitement of your first awkward dance. You never forget the crushing sadness of your first broken heart.

Sarah would never forget the first time she pushed the Goblin King off a balcony.

The kiss had frozen time, it had not been a quick meeting of the lips. It was soft, and firm and had started out as the simplest meeting of lips, but then he stepped closer, hands coming up to her face. She had closed her eyes for the briefest of moments before realizing just what was going on, drew back her hands with all her might and pushed him away, over the balcony railing.

Of course, her victory was short-lived as he magically reappeared back on the balcony a moment later, though at a safe distance away.

"Now, precious, was that really necessary?"

"Absolutely. Why did you do that?"

"Well, it seemed appropriate to seal our agreement officially as it were and a simple handshake seemed too banal for such a momentous arrangement. I just bartered my entire kingdom on my own good," he scoffed as he pulled nonchalantly on his gloves, "behavior. I might as well get something out of the bargain."

"You… are…" Sarah sputtered.

"Irresistible," the Goblin King interjected, his eyes alight with mischief.

"Insufferable!"

"Hm, well agree to disagree I suppose," he said with a wink.

Sarah took a deep breath, about to launch into a lecture about proper human woman/magic king interactions when a crash sounded from the courtyard beneath them. They both peered over the balcony to see dense black smoke, goblins and a number of small black chickens running from an open window. Jareth's shoulders sagged and ran his hands over his face and through his hair in frustrated acceptance of the chaos down below him

"One hour," he muttered, " I just want one hour where they're not destroying something or each other."

Sarah couldn't help but giggle as he turned to her, trying to put on the airs of someone not about to go put out a chicken induced grease fire. "I supposed I shall give you a moment to collect yourself, my dear, you seem a bit disheveled. If you would be so kind as to stay here and not do anything foolish or imprudent for a few minutes."

Another crash erupted from down below, his shoulders sagged in a sigh and he was gone.

Sarah allowed herself a moment to be amused by the idea of the stern and self-righteous Goblin King in the role of an overworked and overwhelmed babysitter. If she squinted he almost had a chance at appearing a bit sympathetic, but then she recalled that she was quite put out about that kiss, and the whole overprotective, trying to poof her home against her will again, but definitely mostly put out about that kiss. And she definitely wasn't blushing as she recalled the sensation of - no, that was definitely anger and nothing more and she definitely wasn't smiling.

"Well now," a voice spoke from behind, "we thought he'd never leave."

Sarah froze, the voice rang in her ears, familiar yet foreign. Something about it chilled her to the core and her feet felt like lead weights as she slowly turned around.

Standing behind her was a person, a man perhaps, draped in black. There were no ruffles or frills here, no fanciful armor or costume, only a black cloak hiding all but the face of the person who stood before her. Lank, pale hair framed colorless skin and he stared at her with dark, burnished eyes. As the figure moved toward her the strange orange sunlight made the cloak glistened like oil - no that wasn't quite right, it was like rain on feathers. There was nothing sudden in the movement, nothing intense or predatory yet every hair on her body stood on end in alert.

"So this," the man-creature said, his gaze intent on her, "is the girl who tears down worlds? Interesting. It is not what we expected."

"Well, nothing is as it seems in the Underground," Sarah's voice finally broke through. "I know you. You came to the gate yesterday, didn't you? Who are you?"

The cloaked figure considered her for a moment, "We are the Speaker and yes, we have spoken before. You burned bright at our first meeting, but now we see you are just a little candle."

"You're trespassing in the Goblin Kingdom." Sarah to bluff, she knew nothing about Underground politics. "He'll come back soon, he doesn't want you here."

"He's adequately distracted for the time being," the Speaker said indifferently.

Silence hung in the air, the Speaker seemed to be content only to watch her and it was unnerving.

"I want her back." Sarah followed it with her eyes as it started to slowly circle around her; she knew that it was not the type of thing you wanted to turn your back to.

"Want, want, want. Mortals can be very greedy, can't they? Of course, greed and altruism are so easily confused, wouldn't you say?"

"No," Sarah scoffed. "I wouldn't say that at all. I want what's best for her. You, the Committee, want to use her to feed your magic. You are the greedy ones"

"We only want what they want. We simply grant the wishes."

"Wishes that benefit you."

The creature shrugged and the movement rippled the feather cloak from its shoulders down to the ground like a drop of water on a still pool, "It is a beautifully symbiotic relationship. We both get what we want. It is mutually beneficial."

Sarah clenched her fists at her side. The longer the creature stood there the heavier her shoulders felt as despair radiated from it like heat from a fire.

"My will is as strong as yours and I demand you give her back." Sarah spat through clenched teeth.

"Oh foolish little candle," it sneered. "That might work on lesser beings, but not on Us. We don't take orders like your tamed king and we like strong wills. They burn longer"

Sarah shuddered at this. The Speakers' features remained passive, but its eyes glimmered at its last words.

"Then I wish for her back."

"Tut, tut. You really don't know the rules, do you? It doesn't matter what you want; the child made the wish on her own."

"Rules, hah! I know this is all some twisted game for you. It doesn't matter what she wants either. There is no way that she actually wants to be disappeared and used as magical fertilizer for the Underground goth scene. I know her and I don't believe you. You made her believe that's what she wanted, somehow you put those thoughts into her head. It's not the same."

"Those paltry details don't bother us. What mortals want or what they believe they want… it's all the same in the end and we all know how stubborn mortals are. As soon as they get an idea in their heads it has an amazing ability to stick, and fester and grow. It's quite delightful. All we have to do is plant the seed and your insecure, weak little minds just do the rest for us and once it's deep enough, nothing can convince it otherwise."

The Speaker turned from her, content in its victory.

"I could," she whispered.

The Speaker stopped.

"I could change her mind," Sarah said louder, willing her voice not to quaver. "If you just let me talk to her I could convince her otherwise."

"Oh, could you little candle? Is that," it's mouth twitched as if it was trying to smile, "a challenge?"

Sarah caught her words before they escaped her mouth. She knew what happened when you made deals and bargains down here. There was no turning back and no second place; it was always all or nothing.

"Well?"

"Yes! Yes, it's a challenge. I challenge the Committee to let me speak to her, not interfere and let me try to change her mind and if I can convince her to undo her wish you will let us both go, return us to our world and never bother us, or any of those under my care again."

"And if you fail?" It's words dripped like oil into the ground. "Come now, a challenge must be fair. If you fail we must get something in return. We are being quite generous to begin with, it is only fair that you reciprocate that generosity. If you fail, we get our reward… we will get you."

"Me?"

"Yes, the strongest wills burn the longest, little candle, and the will of the Labyrinth Champion will burn for quite some time."

They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die. If that is true, then your future is what passes before you when you're about to make a deal with a magical enemy for your very soul. Sarah felt that for a split second she could see the possibilities of her life laid out in front of her; every happy ever after, every heartache, every failure and every triumph she could ever have.

"Deal," she said, reflexively holding out her hand.

Now the Speaker smiled in earnest and Sarah remembered the crow in her dream. It was a smile that was too thin and too wide and as it's beak-like lips parted she could see rows of pointed teeth.

"Deal," it agreed and before she could withdraw her proffered palm a hand grasped around hers. Sarah could call it a hand because it seemed to have fingers, but the skin was black, haggard and rough and the fingers ended in sharp points that dug into her skin.

She felt the magic building around her, but where Goblin King magic was the feeling of being surrounded by millions of glittering fireworks this magic felt empty and heavy as if it was pulling pieces of her away, bit by bit.

"Now take me to her."

"Tut, tut, little candle. That wasn't part of the agreement. You must get to her on your own and won't that be quite the adventure." The Speaker grinned once more as Sarah's stomach sank to her feet as it's oil slick cape flared with its hollow magic and it disappeared.

Sarah stood on the balcony alone as the shock registered in her mind and through her body. She could feel her skin turn cold and clammy and her knees began to shake beneath her. She wrapped her arms around her body as she began to shake. She winced as her knees hit the floor. A warm, electric magic swirled around her as Jareth reappeared on the balcony.

"Sarah?" He exclaimed as she dropped to the ground in front of her, long fingers wrapping around her shoulders and lifting her up from her doubled over position. "Sarah, what is the matter?"

She felt his hands on her face, raising her head and searching her with those uncanny eyes.

"I did something," her voice trembled as she searched for the words. "I did something very, very foolish."


	13. Try

"What happened…" his voice trailed off. "Something has been here? What is it?"

Sarah couldn't lift her eyes to meet his as she replied, "The Committee… well not exactly. It called itself The Speaker."

In a moment Jareth was on his feet and she could hear the clicking of his boots as he paced around the balcony. Sarah could feel the pull of magic around her as he moved and when she looked up his simple shirt and tunic had been replaced with the armored jacket.

"What did you say, Sarah?" She remained quiet on the stone floor, dark hair falling in a sheet in front of her face. "Is this what you do, rush headfirst into danger with no thought to the consequences? People don't win against the Committee, Sarah. They have no interest in helping you. They only want to feed and take until there's nothing left of you. I knew you were headstrong, but this is beyond foolish."

"No!" Sarah yelled, pounding her fists into the sandy stone floor. Her knuckles burned as they scraped against the rough ground, but she did not notice as they started to bleed. She was on her feet. "You have no damned power over me. You play games, I don't. I don't care if it's foolish. I don't care if I don't have a plan. I don't care if it can't be done. It's not about knowing I can win, it's not about knowing that I'll succeed."

"Then why do it?" He roared back.

"Because someone has to try!" Her fists, still stinging with cuts and scrapes pounded into his armored tunic. Her eyes met his; her green eyes blazed with determination, refusing to back down. She was no longer a girl, no longer afraid to meet his gaze for more than a few shy moments. "You stand there with your magic and your pretty words. I've seen people like you in my world all promises, dreams, and smiles. Well, I don't make empty promises. I might fail and I have no idea what I'm doing, but damn it all, I'm going to try because that's what I do and if you aren't going to help me then get the hell out of my way because I've got another castle to tear down."

The air hung still around them as the magic swirling around them ebbed. She kept her gaze locked firmly on his. He didn't break away from her gaze, but something ever so slightly softened around his eyes. She felt his fingers wrap around her hands and she tried to pull away, but he held tight and brought his face close to hers. She would not cower in front of him no matter his posturing. She tilted her chin up until they almost came nose to nose.

"You are absolutely maddening."

And with shimmer and pop, they were gone.

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**Well, the world is quite upside down right now isn't it? Since there's not much else to do I'm going to try to get this story back up and running. There might be some edits of previous chapters as I try to iron out a few things (sorry, I kind of write as I go and I'm medical worker so this is totally a stress relief outlet right now, so it's just going to be written as it comes.)**

**I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe. I'm excited to be back developing this story, we're going to be adventuring outside of the Labyrinth and into a new kingdom or two, so be patient with me as I world build. I hope you'll like it.**


	14. Intermission

As the magic settled around the balcony little heads began to pop out of inexplicable corners as little goblins began to give each other the all-clear. Even a few stones moved from the floor and brownies raised their heads out of their little tunnels.

A gangly goblin lifted himself over the railing, and broke the silence in his slow drawl, "Where'd King go?" He clasped a rough hand over his mouth, used to being told to shut up whenever he forgot to be quiet.

A goblin with particular shaggy eyebrows paced the balcony, giving much thought to the evidence at hand and after much consideration of the evidence at hand pronounced. "King gone."

The little bodies around him all murmured in agreement at this astute statement.

"King yell a lot." the gangly goblin said between his fingers, eye darting around waiting for his punishment.

The shaggy browed goblin bent his head in thought again, "Is good."

The goblins around him nodded in solemn agreement, the gangly goblin agreement with fervent nods of his head until his thoughts had had time to catch up with him, "Wait why is it good?"

His fellows let out an exasperated sigh, building up their strength to tell him to be quiet yet again, but the shaggy eyebrowed creature waved them down.

"Easy," it said with a surprising air of authority, "King like goblins…" He paused for a moment, as the goblins confirmed with each other. There was a definitely air of confusion about whether or not this statement was entirely true, but when they were all in something like agreement he continued.

"King like goblins, but King hate chickens."

This statement was ratified faster among his cohort, as their petulant monarch was very clear on his dislike of the infamous Labyrinth black chickens. There had even been a particularly catchy song about it.

"King yell at goblins, and King kick Chickens. King did not kick Lady and King yell a lot." he paused to let the various hamster wheels of the goblin mind to complete the mental gymnastics needed to comprehend such an equation. He waggled a shaggy eyebrow, as the grubby little faces around him lit up.

"So King must like Lady very, very much."

**XXXXXX**

**Thought we could use a little intermission before we continue on the journey. Cheers!**


	15. Trustfall

When Sarah was younger she had often considered teleportation to be the best superpower. The ability to pop and poof to or away from anywhere at the drop of a hat seemed like the best way to get around chores and bedtimes and Sunday dinners. Now, as the magic dropped away, she knew she would never underestimate the power of her own two feet. When Toby was six they had taken an amusement park trip and she had allowed herself to be talked into riding on "The Towering Titan" that was less peaks and valleys of speed and more just a straight jump from a tall height. She'd hated it; hated the feeling of heart dropping into her shoes as she clung to harness as the machine had osiliated up and down, drop, up and down, drop. She had spent the next hour laying on a bunch, trying to keep a lemonade down and as strangers walked past and told her she looked a little green.

"Do not do that again," she said with her head between her knees, determined not to be sick on the shiny black boots in front of her. A gloved hand reached down in front of her and after a moment's consideration she begrudgingly allowed him to help her to her feet.

"It would be easier, my dear," he said as he brushed stray strands that clung to her cheek and eyelashes, "if you would stop fighting against everything I do."

She scoffed, "Oh, that's rich coming from the person who thought it was fun to chase me with Tetanus on Wheels, and drug my food, and mess with the actual flow of time. Yes, you've done so much to earn my trust. Of course I'm going to fight against you, I'm constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop."

She pushed past him, stumbling a little and kicking up little clouds of dust around her feet.

"I mean why are you still here anyways? And where is here? And what are you doing? Hell, what am I doing?" She let out an exasperated, throaty yell of frustration. A moment of deja vu shot through her from the back of her mind and for a moment she was surrounded by high stone walls that glistened in the timeless sky, her feet kicking Labyrinth detritus as she ran, unkempt roots and vines grasping at her. And she felt that same panicky helplessness that made her throw herself haplessly at the walls and almost give up before it all really began.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, but she refused to turn. She refused to face him when she did not feel completely in control. "I am here to help you. I know...I know you don't trust me. I admit you may have some good reasons to doubt me, but I am here to help."

She turned now, "Why should I believe you?" His face was serious, not angry, not forlorn, but actually serious; she hadn't known it was actually possible. She searched his mismatched eyes, watching for that shine of mischief or sarcasm or malice.

"Because," he said, melodic voice even and calm, "nothing is as it seems in the Labyrinth."

He let the statement drift on the air. It was true. The Labyrinth was the topsy-turvy place where monsters were gentle giants, where the smallest and weakest were the most valiant, where the least friendly were the most loyal. It was a place where a spoiled, selfish girl could make a sacrifice and be a hero. She opened her mouth to speak the idea out loud, but struggled to put the thought into words. It was so much easier to accept him as a villain, or at least an ever present antagonist. To think of him otherwise, as what? An ally? A friend?

He did not wait for her to answer his challenge, as he swept his arms out in front of himself in a familiar bit of showmanship. The familiar mischievous glint in his eyes again. "As for where we are? We are at the boundary of my Kingdom because I am trying to start us off on this noble quest and as for you, well, if history proves correct you are probably mad at me for something."

"What? No, I'm not mad at you," she caught herself, "I think."

"Ahh, well, may wonders never cease." And he gave her a wink; his smile crinkling his eyes and all the seriousness of the previous moments was gone. And he had the nerve to wonder why she struggled to trust him.

"Wait," she caught herself. "You said, us. A minute ago you were brerating me doing foolish, stupid things and now you're just coming along? Why?"

He stopped and considered her for a moment, folding long arms across his chest, drumming his fingers across a forearm.

"Three reasons, two you may have now and one you can have later." She made a move to argue, but he held out a hand in protest. "Tut, I know, Sarah that I told you I would not lie to you, but never promised to tell you all my secrets. If I did that my charming allure would be greatly diminished. So I give you two for now and one you may ask me for again later, and I will answer you, truthfully. Just be sure you want the answer I'll give. However, I give the first two freely. The first is a simple issue. The Committee dared to trespass in my kingdom and accost my Champion, my honor is at stake."

"Your honor?" Sarah couldn't help but scoff, "More like your pride."

"Semantics my dear." Sarah rolled her eyes, but waved him on. "May I continue? The second is that you, in your own round about way, did ask for my help and therefore I have a duty to assist you and keep you from harm."

For a moment Sarah could almost imagine that his declaration sounded chivalrous, but her subconscious was quick to remind her of clocks that lost hours and mazes that never stood still.

"And," he continued, "we both know how good you are at getting into trouble. I dare say without my assistance all sorts of terrible things might occur."

Sarah rolled her eyes and walked around him, not taking his bait for yet another argument. She took a good look at her surroundings now that her head had stopped swimming. It reminded her of the dry little hill that she landed on when she had first arrived so many years ago. Windswept and barren, but glittering in the light of the Underground; she had not realized during her run that there was no sun in the sky. If there was no sun, then that probably meant no moon or stars, nothing that could be used to navigate the Labyrinth.

So much for moving the stars for no one, she thought with a sardonic little laugh.

But the lack of sun was not the only strange thing in the sky. It was the sky itself, something was odd, something was off. She raised a hand, shielding her eyes from the non-existent sun as she scanned the horizon, no, that wasn't right because you can't scan a thing that didn't exist. There was no horizon, to line to mark the meeting of the sky and the land. Her eyes began to burn as her mind tried to make sense of the sight as the yellow sky and the fine yellowish dirt on the ground seemed to merge and blend, seeming at once both very close and very far away.

"But.. it just ends. Except it doesn't? How do I get to the Committee if there are no roads, no paths? How does this place even work?"

"It works the Underground works, which is to say without a smattering of logic or reason. My kingdom exists in the Underground, or as some call it the Faerie, Tir Na nOg, Peri, Alfheim, Biringen, Zerzura, but it is separate, set apart."

"Why?" Sarah was not about to settle for one of his half answers. He was standing next to her again, staring into the horizonless landscape with her. He was surprisingly still Sarah realized, realizing she was used to him moving almost constantly, walking, circling, pacing and when his long legs stood still his hands would often be moving, drawing attention away from what you wanted to look at or fidgeting with pent up energy.

"Because of what it is, what it does and what it has. Many creatures of the Underground would love access to the Kingdom, it's magic is… unique and valuable. There are kingdoms that have access to this one and some that do not, travel between our worlds often takes just as much delegation as it does navigation."

"And the Committee?"

She could see him scowl, and his eyes grow hard under the tossle of thistledown hair.

"The Committee," he spat the words out, "is very, very good at finding loopholes."

She waited a beat, but he seemed lost in thought and reluctant to say more. "So, how do I get there?"

"It's a bit like moving through a chessboard, particularly that Kingdom. Direct routes from here to there have long been closed, but we can get there if we know the right routes to take. It is a tricky balance," he continued, "if we take the wrong path we might give them ample opportunity to get in our way, but if we go too far it will take too much time or draw the attention of others we might wish to avoid."

He seemed to be examining something she could not see. He brought his hand up to his face, stroking his chin in the thoughtful motions of one examining the arrival/departure board at an airport.

"Too bad we can't just tunnel straight to them," Sarah said with a shrug, swinging her shoulders a bit and trying to make it obvious that, clearly, she wasn't foolish enough to believe that was actually a solution when suddenly he started to laugh. It was a deep, full and almost melodious sound and it wasn't stopping.

"Okay, fine," she admitted. "It was obviously a dumb suggestion - 

"Oh no my dear," he said, turning to stand in front of her. "It was in fact, quite brilliant."

She looked askance at the compliment, green eyes daring him to follow with a quip or a barb, but instead he took her hands in his again. The mischievous smile was back, as was the glint in those enigmatic eyes. He pulled her close and for a moment she forgot to fight back and suddenly she was close enough for him to whisper in her ear.

"Now you precious thing," he said with a smile," what do you know about grandmothers?"

Sarah's words died in her throat as he pulled her to him and they fell through the horizonless sky.


	16. The Way In

The first thing Sarah noticed as the world stopped spinning was that it was most definitely raining. Wherever they had landed was in the middle of a rather intense rainstorm and in the time it took Sarah's head to stop spinning the deluge had already plastered her dark hair to her head and was beginning to soak into her clothes.

The second thing she noticed was that her traveling companion now resembled a waterlogged cat. His silken shirt clung to his body and his hair lay in bedraggled sheets around his face and Sarah couldn't help but burst into laughter.

He petulantly folded his arms across his chest and waited, "Really Sarah, is that absolutely necessary?"

She looked up between the bedraggled strands of her hair, her amused tears mingling with rain trailing down her cheeks, as she clutched at her sides. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she managed between manic gasps, trying to get a hold of herself. She managed to regain a bit of composure, but made the mistake of looking at him again all haughty, and annoyed and so very bedraggled; so very far from the cruel, calculating trickster that had haunted her run through the Labyrinth.

"Oh really," he said sardonically while trying to push the sodden hair from his face with as much dignity as he could muster, and then to Sarah's surprise, he began to laugh. It was not the callous, deriding laugh she was used to; rather it was something filled with warmth and was almost melodious. He met her eyes and for a moment they laughed together like two old friends just caught in the rain without an umbrella yet again.

He reached out a gloved hand toward her, and lost in the moment she reached out and placed her in his without a moment's thought.

"If you're quite done shrieking like a banshee," he said as he pulled her closer, "we should get moving and get out of this maelstrom."

"I was not shrieking like a banshee," Sarah rebuffed, trying to pull away from him while slipping on the rough, uneven ground. His arm slipped around her waist as she began to fall. She shot him a look from the corner of her eyes, which she felt was being purposefully ignored. "Anyway, why can't you just magic up some fabulously glittery ponchos or just poof us out of this mess? Being at the mercy of the elements seems a little beneath the great and powerful Goblin King."

"Normally you would be right my dear, but at the moment I'm afraid we have to play by a different set of rules. My magic would draw the sort of attention we wish to avoid, so I'm afraid that we will have to … what's that quaint phrase? Oh yes, rough it."

She studied him for a moment, searching his eyes for the truth of the matter, until "Damn it. You're telling the truth aren't you?"

"Of course I'm telling the truth," he seemed genuinely offended. "Do you honestly think I would deign to spend a moment like this if I had a choice?"

Sarah sighed, "Of course not, but do you even know what that means?"

The Goblin King sniffed and grimaced, "It means we had better find what we're looking for quickly."

"And that would be what?"

"The way in." This was clearly as much answer as was needed and he pulled her along with him as he started down what Sarah sincerely hoped was a path.

They moved cautiously through the rocks and muck that surrounded them. It was dark, and from the intermittent flashes of lightning which illuminated the sky Sarah could see that to one side of her was a dense, dead forest. The trees' spindly arms contorted grotesquely against the sky, calling to mind classic black and white horror movies. On the other side rose sheer rock walls, slick with mudslides and almost vertical ramparts of stone reaching into the heavy, storm laden clouds.

They traveled together in miserable silence for what seemed like hours, slipping on mud, scraping knuckles and knees on boulders and branches alike. The path between the mountain and the forest seemed to stretch on forever.

_It just goes on and on... _

"What are we looking for?" Sarah shouted over the thunderous din around her as she scrambled behind him.

"The way in," he shouted over his shoulder. "They make it hard to find so we just have to keep looking."

She pushed the wet hair from her face again, "Damn it, but what does it look like?"

He was looking out above and beyond her, so she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Do you even know what we're looking for? Answer me!"

He shouted back, shaking her grip off and throwing his hands into the air. "The way in! That is what we're looking for. It's just the way in and it will show up when we find it and we just have to keep going."

"You've got to be kidding me! We've been marching around in the mud and the rain to find something and you don't even know what it is?" Sarah let out a yell and marched away from him, lashing out against the nearest rock wall. She beat her fists against the stones, fighting with every ounce of strength not to repeat the words… it's not fair.

She couldn't tell in the rain if she was crying or not, but it felt like she was by the time he reached her. The adrenaline had worn off and she had no energy to fight him as he wrapped his arms around her. Not even her long-suffering stubborn streak put up a fight as she tucked her arms against his chest and cried, let out all the frustration and desperation she had kept tucked away since she arrived. He did not move, or speak; to Sarah's surprise her old enemy stood there, arms around her, his cheek resting on the top of her head and she let the shuddering sobs leave her body.

Maybe she was foolish to even attempt this. Maybe it was hopeless and maybe she was in far over her head, maybe they should just give… and that is when she felt it; a slight tug on her pant leg.

Sarah peeked between her fingers and over his arm and looked down at her leg and there standing next to her was what, unbelievably, looked remarkably like a little old man, that is, if little old men were made of potatoes.

The potato man sniffed and furrowed his brows as she gaped at him and then wordlessly turned away and slipped between two rocks in the wall where she could now see the faintest seam of golden light. Sarah looked up at the Goblin King incredulously, then to the seam in the wall and back to him.

A smile drew across his face and the mischievous glint filled his mismatched eyes.

"Ah yes," he said, "that would be the way in."


End file.
